


Flashes of Blue, Oceans of Green

by Celticas



Series: Bushfire [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brainwashing, Gen, Post-Avengers (2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22279267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celticas/pseuds/Celticas
Summary: Loki's mind was screaming at him. Clawing and fighting. For the first time in his life, he wished he had Thor's brute strength. Then maybe he would be free of the blue that was freezing flesh that shouldn't freeze, slowing a mind that had always moved faster than the falling stars of his childhood nights.
Relationships: Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Series: Bushfire [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603648
Comments: 11
Kudos: 101
Collections: Australian Bushfires





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuroraWest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraWest/gifts).



The slow movement of Earth’s technology sometimes baffled Thor. He wanted to be able to charge from one end of the floating vessel to the other without a pesky door, that was meant to ease his passage, slowing him down. Two steps from the final barrier between himself and his brother, he slowed as it inched open. Too slowly. But also too fast. Would this be his final confrontation with the brother he had thought lost?

The gap widened enough for him to race through. As he stepped into the room, Loki stepped out of the containment that the Humans though could hold him. Thor had never seen anything keep Loki someplace he didn't want to be with the single exception of their mother’s disapproving eye.

Pushing off, he launched himself across the room. Colliding with his younger brother, he sent them both crashing into the unforgiving metal floor. The force of the impact cracked Loki’s head against the floor. While Thor continued into the glass cage, rolling several times from the extra momentum.

They both lay there stunned for long seconds that were marked by explosions and yelling from outside their calm room. The eye of a hurricane.

“Thor?” His voice was weak, scared, hurt. “What? I do not…” The thought petered off before Loki finished it, the light fading from his brother’s eyes as he lost his hold on the world.

Never in their long years together had Thor ever heard his brother so vulnerable. Never had he neglected to finish saying whatever it was he wanted to say. Words were his weapons just as much as Mjolnir and lightning were Thor’s. Seeing him lying there, broken and unconscious was almost worse than that second of recognition on the Bifrost when Thor had  _ known _ he would not be able to hold his brother up. 

“Thor?” Agent Coulson’s calm voice called him back to awareness. Reminded him that there was a larger fight still being fought.

“Son of Coul.” Carefully he stood, putting himself directly between the agent who had every reason to hate and fear Loki, and his defenceless brother.

A crackle that no human would have heard, diverted the man. His face going tight and then pale in turn as a voice spoke to him. Wide blue eyes darted from Thor down to the sprawled Loki.

“Copy That. Loki is contained.” Agent Coulson threw a set of the metal rings attached by chain to Thor. “What ever hold he had on our people is broken. The fight is winding down.” He stalked around the room to the wide glass screen that controlled the gilded cage they had designed for another. “In or out?”

“In.”

Coulson nodded as if he had expected no other answer, and typed in his commands. The hiss and pulse of air and electricity slid the cage door into place.

“Someone will be back for you.”

Thor watched him leave, one of the mortals’ large projectile weapons across his shoulders. Alone with his brother and a hundred hidden and not so hidden cameras, Thor sat. Back against the cold glass and a voice of cloud and a three thousand foot drop under his feet. With eyes that were often overlooked in favour of his brash voice and large presence, he catalogued every twitch of muscle that started in Loki’s fingers and crawled their way up his arms until he was flinching from hits that were only in his mind.

The scream that tore from his younger brother ripped the still beating heart out of Thor’s chest. He flew across the empty space, one hand gripping Loki’s shoulder to shake him to wakefulness, and the other went under his head, cradling the fragile skull that held one of the brightest minds in the nine realms.

“Brother. It is okay. I have you. Wake Brother. Return from Nótt’s realm.” His voice was loud over the roar of the wind that swirled below and up and around their cage.

A knife skittered off his armour. Without the thick leather he would have ended the day with a blade in his gut. The flash of light caught his eye, him mind turned away from Loki but for a second. It was long enough for the dark man to twist from the loose hold and push himself across the floor, putting feet of distance and an ocean of distrust and fear between them.

“We are safe brother.” Holding his hands away from his sides and in full view, he settled back on his heels. There were no weapons other than those Loki himself had.

“Thor?” The green of Loki’s eyes was back, no longer obscured by the sharp blue of space. “What have I done?” Horror laced his words.

“What have you done Loki?” There was no accusation. It was a request for information. A battle was won or lost on knowing your enemy. It had been a lesson that had been hard won for the headstrong Crown Prince, but it was not one he would ever forget.

“The Chitauri, they come.”


	2. Chapter 2

Thor could hear the yelling and cursing of a double handful of voices through the little pieces of metal and plastic Agent Coulson was passing out. Other than the electronic buzzing, the inside of the full transport was deadly silent. The pilot, an Agent Barton had glared at Thor’s new shadow when they had hurried up the ramp. The last ones on the craft, the quiet chatter of the other occupants had died away.

“He will help, as you are.” Thor broke the uneasy tension. Talking to Agent Barton, but letting others know where he stood. If the archer had the right to make up for actions that had not been his own, did Loki not deserve the same?

He watched them, watch him.

Agent Barton was the first to turn away. “Just keep him away from me.” Eyes older than the face told Thor he was a man familiar with second chances and trying to find redemption in blood.

Agent Romanov scrutinised them, her face as weary as any of Asgard’s most battle worn warriors. She did not welcome them, but she did not turn the extra weapon away.

The Son of Coul was the first to accept Loki’s presence, silently handing over a communication device with a small, sad smile.

The Man of Iron, Tony Stark, shrugged uncaring. He had not cared before either. It was enough.

The man in blue, the Captain of America who the Son of Coul couldn’t look at without turning red, watched them both but acquiesced to Agent Coulson. The older man’s quiet aura of leadership enough to stall the Captain’s tongue.

The flight into the New City of York was short. Agent Coulson working on his tablet one handed while tightening straps on his dark armour with the other. A final tap on the glass and the sounds streaming into their ears changed.

“I’ve linked the comms into Jarvis, he is filtering the chatter from SHIELD, NYPD, and NYFD. He’ll let us know if anything else comes up. Most of the activity is around Stark Tower in Midtown. Barton, drop the rest of us off and then find a high point, 230 Park Avenue or Rand Tower will probably be your best options. Eyes in the sky. Thor, Stark, go high. Try and keep them close together and funnel them to us. Captain, you will be with Agent Romanov and me on the ground. Loki, are you better on the ground or up high?” The General before the final battle of the war, organising his troops. Using them to his advantage.

Thor turned to look at Loki with the rest, head on fights were not his speciality and there would be problems with whoever he chose to fight alongside.

“Excuse me, Agent Coulson?” A new voice burst to life in his ear. Smooth tones that reminded Thor of his mother. Culture and intelligence was woven into every syllable, every letter.

In clipped tones, Agent Coulson responded. “Go ahead Jarvis.”

“Dr Selvig wishes to speak with you.”

“Just put him through J.” Stark broke in, disrupting what Thor suspected would have been an extended polite back and forth that would have ended with Agent Coulson talking to Dr Selvig.

“Is he well?” Thor felt words coming out of his mouth before his brain had decided to speak. The need to protect those he considered family overriding any other concern.

“I am well Thor.” The lilting accent of Dr Selvig washed through the ear piece. A knot of tension he hadn’t known was there loosened in his stomach. “Agent Coulson? While I, while Loki. Um. Back door. I built one.” The Norwegian’s accent thickened to almost incomprehensible in his distress.

“That’s good doctor.” The Son of Coul soothed. “Do you need anything?” The Senior Agent was eyeing the constantly shifting blue rip on space that had opened above the city, an invading army streaming through the breach.

“The Sceptre.”

“Shit. That’s back on board. Clint get everyone else in position and then I’ll take the ‘jet back and get what we need.”

The man’s ability to adapt on the fly was most impressive. Having studied strategy and tactics at the knees of the best Generals in Asgard, Thor suspected he could still learn more from the unassuming mortal.

Nods and verbal acknowledgement followed quickly from those on board.

“Thor, Stark. Ready?” Agent Coulson called over the rising sound of wind as the back ramp lowered. Suddenly the inside of the transport was a whirlwind.

With a laugh, he threw himself from the metal beast. Plummeting for a second until the wind and Mjolnir caught him, jerking the still laughing warrior towards the fight.

A streak of gold and red looped around him before speeding off. The challenge burnt hot in Thor’s gut. With a burst of movement he sped up, trying to catch the flying metal man.

Thor lost himself in the excitement of the race, and the clash of battle. The crackle of voices in his ear a novel experience that he mostly ignored.

His warrior brothers and sister fell into the rhythm of the fight.

“Seven!” Stark called.

Thor what lost track of the other man and his position was not decipherable from the ear piece, the instant communication taken in favour of directionality.

“Eight!” Agent Barton returned with.

Thor wasn’t sure what they were counting, if he needed to know he would.

“You boys need to catch up.” Agent Romanov goaded. “Ten.”

“I get that reference! And twelve. Fifteen.” The Captain joined the conversation.

“You are all children.” Loki had caught whatever it was they were doing. It did not surprise him, Loki had always been the more studious and better at solving my puzzles.

“Keep the channel clear. Landing on Stark Tower in two minutes. Stark, Thor, I’m picking up a tail.” Coulson effectively stopped the conversation.

Twisting mid-air, Thor broke away from the fight he had been in, a last strike of lightning finishing his foe. Shooting across the city, skimming the rooves of the buildings, he searched for the dark flying ship.

There.

Coming up one of the wide avenues and trailing a parade of the enemies. He flew directly at the little transport ship. Close enough to see the whites of the Son of Coul’s eyes before he swerved, popped back up in his wake and sent a bolt of crackling power down the length of the long avenue. They felt from the air like fae in a salted breeze.

He bellowed his victory.

“Thor!” Agent Barton spoke directly to him for the first time. “Your brother needs a hand. Two blocks down and one block west.” He spat the word but still gave quick, efficient directions.

Thor understood the Archer’s hostility, but respected him all the more for still rendering assistance.

“Thank you Hawk Eyed One.” Dropping onto the edges of the roadway, he once again engaged the enemy. Losing himself in the attack- retreat, strike-dodge, give-take of battle.

The monster attacking him froze. Stumbling slightly as he compensated for the lack of ringing metal on metal contact of Mjolnir with the alien armour, he spun. Every one of the enemies in sight was frozen. Standing there, mouths open in screaming rigour, claws millimetres from inflicting more loss, and death on the people of Midgard.

They crumpled, puppets with their strings slashed. Machines of death and disaster rendered into little more than metal encased meat lumps.

“Stark!” Three voices overlapped and echoed over the comm unit. A guttural roar of anger and adrenaline punctuated the sound.

He felt the ground crack under his feet as he threw himself away from the earth. Cutting a merciless path through the air as he fought to reach the golden streak that was one of his new Shield Brothers.

A mass is green reached the gold and red machine man first. A hulk of organic muscle colliding with an unforgiving metallic hero.

Slowing himself, he followed them to the ground, landing lightly as the green giant reverently lowered the silent machine to the decimated road. His Shield brothers and sister gathered. Silent in worry and breaths held in hope.

Loki stood at his shoulder, returned to his rightful place. The magician murmured too low for him to hear. From the corner of his eye, he saw the spark of life flick from Loki’s long, elegant fingers to the beacon of life and light in the centre of the downed man’s chest.

Stark gasped for breath where seconds ago there had been none.

“What happened?” Stark gasped, eyes casting about wildly. “Tell me no one kissed me.” He demanded for no discernible reason.

Immediately the tension vanished. Agent Barton even smirked down at the Man of Iron. It was heartening.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't quite where I thought this chapter would go, but I am very happy with it. I hope you are too,

After bringing Tony Stark back to gasping, snarking life, everything seemed to slow and speed up in stops and starts. The street was empty and then it was filled with milling black-clad Agents of SHIELD. Insensitive, he watched a squad of them approach, chains clanking in the lead man’s hands. His bullheaded, idiot brother thought he could stand between these men and their revenge.

He had attacked their home, killed their brothers and sisters. Nothing Thor said was going to stop them taking every drop of blood he owed them.

Thor alone could not stop them, but then he wasn’t the only one standing in their way. First it was the Patriotic Captain, that man thrown out of time whose sincerity was nauseating. Then the green Monster was casting him in shadow, his chest buzzing from the low growl of  _ threat  _ of  _ danger _ emanating from the beast. With a groan, the man child who had found himself in pain, pushed himself upright and began calling the honour of the agent’s mothers into question. Silently, the two assassins, people more steeped in blood than Loki himself with a thousand years of war flowing through his veins, ghosted to his sides, drawn weapons in hand but lax. Ready, but not actively threatening their own people.

Agent Coulson, the nothing man, was the final brick in the wall protecting him from the world. A man he would have dismissed as a lowly paper-pusher, was the one to bring the phalanx of agents to a stop.

Whatever he said to them was lost to Loki. The trickster’s mind skipping over words, focusing in on one glare to miss a dozen others.

He was so tired. The very centre of his being hurt. Every slice the Mad Titan had inflicted still felt on skin healed by power not time. A thin veneer of health over a mind and body torn to shreds and cast to the edges of a universe so much vaster and colder than he had known.

He didn’t think he would ever sleep again. Being that vulnerable, the chance of being caught unaware by the Mad Titan of one of his people. He couldn’t risk it. Where were they? Which vehicle or piece of rubble were they hiding behind, waiting for him to let his guard down. 

“Loki?” A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, jolting him from the sterile darkness of the Titan’s ship to the bright destruction of a Midgardian street. “LOKI!” Thor’s voice boomed, echoing off the steel and glass structures. He stumbled backwards, away from the noise. A warmth that shouldn’t be there coated his hand. Red blood dripped from the end of a dagger he didn’t remember drawing.

The metal clattered to the ground. “I did not. I. I am sorry. I am so sorry. Thor. Do not, please. I am sorry.” Thoughts swirled through his mind, faster and faster. Too fast even for him. The thoughts wrapped around his lungs and wouldn’t let go. Stopping his breath. The tumble of words he couldn’t control stuttered to a halt, not enough air to bring sound from his mouth.

“…three four. Hold two three four. Out two three four.” The b;and agent’s voice penetrated the fog that his mind had fallen into. The tumble of thoughts and images had petered off as his mind had started to slip towards unconsciousness. “Good. That’s good. Now, put your hand to the ground. Feel the texture of the cement. The warmth from the sun. Feel the tiny cracks from the thousands of cars and trucks. Can you feel them? Now take this. Can you feel the smoothness of the fabric? How cool it is.” Blinking open his eyes at the luxurious slip and slide of material between his fingers, he found the length of black that he had seen the other man, and others from his organisation, wearing around his neck on every occasion they had crossed paths.

“What is it?” The words were barely a whisper.

“A silk neck tie.”

“What is its purpose?” Running it through his fingers, almost compulsively, he watched as the light caught on the threads and sent a rainbow of colours into the air.

“It doesn’t really have one. Not anymore. It originated as a way of keeping jackets closed. Do you think you can stand?” Agent Coulson carefully drew the fabric back wrapping it around his hand and disappearing it into a pocket.

Loki didn’t answer. He hadn’t been aware he wasn’t standing anymore. Dust and blood coated his skin and clothes.

“Come on, we should get you off the street.” Coulson turned and began walking away, towards the monument to Stark that had been the centre of his/not his plans.

A silent shadow, he followed.

= + =

He woke up screaming. The burn of a thousand slivers cut into his skin flashing across his body. They had never been deep enough to bring death to him, instead each knife entry had been exactly calculated to sever nerve endings. The remembered pain disturbed what little sleep he had been able to gather in the five days since Thor battered his mind free. Since the third night he had slept alone. Thor had been the hardest to drive off. The humans had their own concerns, Agents Coulson and Romanov more interested in looking after their friend than in the man who had stolen him. The green monster, once he had shrunk to his weakened form had fled them all. Stark interested in none of them. Only the Captain had stood with the two brothers.

A sneered comment had not been enough to drive him off. A blade to the kidney and another to held threateningly to his throat had been enough to see him walk away. The threat to his own safety had had Thor shrugging at the inevitable, it would not be the first, or probably last, time he had stabbed his brother. A threat to do himself harm had finally convinced the great lug to give him the peace he so desired. His visage had been that of a kicked puppy as he had departed. A final plea to call on him if needed followed him out the door.

Loki had thrown a knife in response, the quivering blade stuck fast in the wood beside the door. It still hung there now.

Now, lying in the dark stillness of the room Stark had assigned him, he wondered if driving them off had been the best move. A warm presence in the night might have kept the nightmares away. But it wouldn’t keep the Titan or one of his children from reclaiming Loki when they came for him, they would just be another death on his hands. More blood to add to the tally the red-headed assassin spoke of. Having achieved his goal of solitude, he found it was the last thing he wanted. The chill of the blank cell the Titan had kept him in was biting at his bones again. When he left his bed, he kept the blankets clutched tight around his shoulders, a barrier between himself and the world.

Wrapped so tightly that he could only shuffle, he left the room that was not his, that could be taken away as easily as it had been given. He did not expect to find anyone else about, it was still the early hours of the morning and most of the city would still be asleep. As it was in any city on any world, there would be some who were up, but most would still be abed. A single light shone golden in the large kitchen that took up half of the common areas of the floor. The clatter of metal on glass breaking the silence of the night. Seeing the blond hair and wide shoulders of the archer he had stolen almost had him slipping back into the shadows, retreating into the safety of his own space.

“Hey. You can stay if you want.” The other man called, his back still turned to Loki’s bedding wrapped form. Maybe he did not realise who was lurking outside the pool of light. “It only gotta be weird if we let it. Come on man, I’m making cocoa.”

A rich scent floated across the space, finally drawing Loki into the light.

“Thor told me you had no more control than I did, and Tash said I couldn’t blame myself for what I did. So I can’t really blame you either.” Clint Barton avoided eye contact as he worked. It appeared as if stirring the warm drink took all of his attention, but the tension in his shoulders and back belied that.

They were the last words spoken until the sun rose through the large windows. They were not the last words spoken in the dark of the night over hot drinks between two shattered men trying to learn how to put themselves back together again. It was the first link forged between himself and the Avengers in a chain that would bind them all.

= + =

With those first steps back into the world, the allure of exploration and knowledge called to him. Slowly guiding him out into other parts of the building. Most of the rooms he came across were as bland as Agent Coulson pretended to be. Boring boxes of rooms that housed workspaces and electronics. In his second week in the tower he stumbled across a dragon’s horde. A Ran’s cave of knowledge. Perfectly waxed wooden shelves stretched around the room from one side to the other and from ceiling to floor. Books to rival Odin’s own library filled the shelves and overflowed onto tables and chairs.

“Loki. Hello.” Agent Coulson looked up at him with a soft smile from his seat in an overly large armchair. “Did you want to join me?”

He didn’t particularly. Too often his thirst for knowledge, his interest in books over weapons had seen him ridiculed and beaten by the other children. It was not a pattern he wished to repeat here.

“No. Thank you.” He could not leave without something in his hands though. Gathering the first few volumes he could lay his hands on, he fled. Seeking sanctuary in his room, he curled up against the windows, the sun warm on his shoulder where it pressed into the glass. The first book was on something called  _ Quantum Mechanics _ , frustrated after three pages with words he did not understand he threw it aside. The next book looked better,  _ The History of Electricity _ . It fared only slightly better. The writing was poor. He threw it aside too. A book so poorly was written did not deserve careful handling. The last book was different again. T _ o Kill A Mockingbird _ . It was a tale, a fiction. The words were not too hard, and the prose was well constructed but still, he found himself losing the thread and becoming frustrated.

Had this been stolen from him as well? 

His freedom, and his rest he could allow. But to have his joy in a book taken was too much.

The small volume sailed through the air. Colliding with the sharp edge of the door frame into his bathing room, it fell, crumpled and damaged to the ground. A shuddering sob tore itself out of his body without his permission. His control slipping in the face of this latest betrayal.

“Brother? May I come in?” Thor called through the door. It was a courtesy that was all, nothing but a flimsy door stood between them, it was too much and not enough. No shelter from his shameful behaviour. “Loki?”

“Yes. Enter.”

The normally imposing form of his brother appeared small as he edged past a barely opened door and shut it behind himself. Keeping the world at bay.

“How may I help you?” He crouched just out of reach. Unwilling to bridge that final gap.

It infuriated Loki, for as long as he had drawn breath, Thor had gone wherever he pleased whenever he pleased to. Easy with his affection to those he knew and strangers alike. To be so separated from him now was too much. For the first time, it was Loki reaching out without a blade in hand. Maybe if they had not taken them all, the situation would be different, but all he could do was silently ask for the comfort he could not verbalise.

Thor gathered him up as if he was a child. Held him close as once again he shattered.

= + =

The population in the library had grown the next time he ventured inside. Days had passed since he had first been there. Fear of being unable to appreciate the written work keeping him away. Agent Coulson had been joined by the Captain. They were bent close together over one of the electronic devices that the humans seemed to carry with them all the time.

“Hello. I’m explaining cell phones to Captain Rogers if you wanted to join us.” Agent Coulson offered.

Loki did not run this time. Maybe learning could be done in a concert here. The Captain was as new to the human’s technology as he was. Silently he ghosted across the floor, settling into a chair at the Agent’s other shoulder he did not break his silence as Agent Coulson started again. Explaining the intricacies of the device.

For an hour the two men out of time questioned and queried. Poked and prodded. Agent Coulson was called off first, his work cutting their time short. The Captain left next, drifting into the quiet dusk. Loki stayed, moving from the telephone that Coulson had left behind, to a book on the history of Science Fiction. Dusk slipped into night as he read.

= + =

When everyone else waited for him to approach them, Agent Romanov sought him out. The day after his time in the library, the assassin had knocked on his door.

“Yes?” He asked through the wood, he didn’t know who was out there or what they wanted. Part of him knew they were not a threat, if they meant him harm they would not have knocked. But he would not open without knowing.

“Loki, come with me.” Her voice wasn’t as welcoming as when they had talked on their flying ship. The veneer of false friendship gone. It was truer thought, the person below the mask. Harsher, colder but lacking the falsehoods that had so rankled him.

“Why?”

“Follow and find out.” She challenged.

He could hear the fading of her footsteps as she walked away. Leaving it to him to follow or not. The prickle of curiosity drove him out the door. Catching her at the elevator, he glowered at the smug tug of her full lips. Manipulating people into doing what he wanted was his speciality, having it turned back on him was not appreciated. It did not make him turn back.

Glaring he followed her into the tiny metal car and glared as it sped them downward. The open space of an exercise room was not what he had been expecting. A small room with her eye-patched boss would have been his first guess. He hadn’t cared to think beyond that.

“Here.” In the time he had spent cataloguing every corner of the space, she had crossed to a set of cabinets and back. Her hand was outstretched, offering him something.

His knives.

Cleaned and stored in a wooden box since he had last seen them. Other than being annoyed that they were not in their customary sheaths, he had not given them much thought.

“Oh.” He caressed the shining metal with one careful finger, respect for the sharp edge over riding the want to pull them close and never let go again.

“Show me what you can you.” Once again she led him without explaining where they were going.

A side door opened to reveal a shooting gallery. Targets made from paper, plastic, metal and other materials lined the lanes at different distances. The closest only a few feet from the firing line and the furthest only just visible to his Asgardian sight, too far for any unenhanced human to see. That target bristled with arrows, and another one split the air as he loitered.

“Chose a lane.” Agent Romanov instructed before disappearing around one of the dividers, the retort of her gun soon joining the whistle of fletchings.

A lane halfway between the door and Agent Romanov would be suitable, the distance far enough that he would have to work but not so far that he wouldn’t be able to get his sights back in after being away from the practice for a while. The thump of the hilts into the hay backed paper joined the tink of metal on metal, and shush of an arrow into another hay target. His shoulders settled and his breath evened as he sent the blades spinning. The images that tormented his waking and sleeping mind melted under the alignment of body and mind.

As the last blade split the air, an image slammed into him. All the more forceful and terrifying as his defences were down. The imitation of a grin on an alien face as it sent a blade through the air to sink into Loki’s knee crashed into. How had he forgotten that sick game?

The scraps of his control went to holding in a scream at the ghost of remembered pain. It was too much. He fled, again. Ran from something he was good at. That he enjoyed.

= + =

She didn’t let him alone. Each day, she knocked at his door and expected him to follow. Some days he could barely glance at his knives before his breath caught. Others he spent hours in quiet companionship with her and the invisible archer. Achingly slowly, he could stand it longer. Wrestling back control from the demons that were beyond reaching him.

Until one day, he was able to walk away from a session without cold fear trickling down his spine.

= + =

“Reindeer games!” Stark’s voice stopped him before he could seek shelter in his room. In the three weeks he had been in the tower, he had successfully avoided the other man. He held too much power over this new life Loki was building.

If he stayed out of his way, maybe amongst the chaos of his own life, he would forget he had invited the devil into his house.

“I’ve been looking for you. Come’on. I need your help. You worked with the Tesseract right? We’re building a thing, a device to harness the energy to open a portal or something to Asgard. I want to keep it here, study it ya’know. But the adults said no.” The not so inhuman man of iron just kept talking. Using a stylus he poked Loki in the side until he started moving. Another poke each time he shifted off course. He didn’t appear to realise he was doing it.

Down two floors and into a room of glass and steel. The mad-man stopped poking him and ranged further into his space. Comfortable in chaos in a way Loki admired. It was odd to find something in common with a human, but from the stories the other’s told of Anthony Stark’s antics he had suspected there would be a likeness there, seeing his workspace that idea solidified into certainty.

This man thrived in chaos in the same way Loki himself did.

“Come’on.”

Loki embraced it. Immersing himself in the whirlwind.

= + =

With all of the others, there was a moment he could point to and say, there that was when the connection was forged. With Banner there wasn’t. It was a tapestry of stolen seconds and quiet words over days and weeks. As steam filled their noses and the not so monstrous man whispered about the wonders of this world he had seen.

The gentle man never reacted to Loki’s anger. Never flinched from him when he raged. He smiled softly, understanding deep in his eyes, and left or offered a cup of tea, a new flavour to discover, whichever he needed to keep control of his own demons. Each time, Loki felt his respect for the man who did so much unwilling damage grow.

= + =

“Loki, I must return to Asgard. The Tesseract can not stay here. Do you wish to return home or stay here?” Thor had drawn him away from the group and was talking quietly for once. Unwilling to damage the new shoots of friendship that his brother was cultivating amongst their human teammates if he wished to leave them.

Loki looked across the room, at the archer who had been the first to truly open to him, even after Loki had inflicted such pain on him. At the bland man who he had found a common love of learning with. At Romanov who shared his demons and was happy to expel them with knives. At the rich man who so longed for a family that he had opened his home to a group of strangers. At the man out of time who had recognised his suffering but not given up on him as he had thought. And the man who did not contain a monster, even when he thought he did.

“I think I would like to stay.”


End file.
